Author Archives: Miss Metropolis


I go away for just a few weeks and DCB goes soft. Haters, where are you? This man needs a kick to the balls. You let him go gay, and then monogamous?!

Did I not teach you one thing, DCB?

Cum on! Spring is in the air … the bees are buzzing and the notches are waiting for in line for your bedpost. It’s almost shorts season for crying out loud! Please tell me you’ve got more game than this sappy slack.

Wake up, man! Get your testosterone on!


My friend and I decided that we were going to hit Arlington in an effort to give ourselves a very unique St. Patty’s Day. Don’t ask. We’d had one too many green drinks when we made that decision. Nevertheless, we did get what we wished for … a rare experience indeed!

First stop: Molly Malone’s. What the fuck was that? Felt like I died and woke up on a street corner in middle America.

Second stop: Clarendon Ballroom. Yes, it is smoke-free, but who were those women in denim skirts, leftover Mardi Gras beads and green tank tops, running around with shiny green heart-shaped stickers on their faces? I felt like I was in a rerun of “Springfield Kindergarten Teachers vs. Vienna Office Assistants” … and the game was hardcore bulletin board decoration. As if!

Third stop: Ireland’s Four Courts. Kelly green walls decorated with photos of Dublin and bagpipes … so authentic, so charming – but wait … did some drunk guy in a green, cone-shaped hat just belch and then grab my ass?

Stop four: Gua-Rapo. Ahh … finally a place to hide out and drink my vodka soda in green peace. Mr. Rosenfeld, you saved my day … again!


OK, OK … DC Bachelor says he needs an intern … aka wingchick. Hey, Bachelor! Thought I was your wingchick?! Oh, I’m gonna start some drama!


OK, OK. Well, I guess we all have the right to hire interns a.k.a. legal slaves. BUT, Bachelor Man – you know that if anyone needs an intern, it’s me.

I am so busy that I cannot even remember when it is time to order my groceries – until Mr. Outlook alerts me. And then I have to schedule a time to order my groceries, using my phone’s alarm as a reminder. An intern could do that.

Here’s my ad:


– Open doors for me, drive me around and buy me flowers.
– Order my groceries (it’s easy, Peapod has pictures)
– Massage my feet, hands and legs
– Make Starbucks runs
– Carry my laptop bag for me (to and from work)
– Walk me home from yoga class
– Make sure the maid comes when she’s supposed to come
– Jog with me, in an effort to make sure that my ipod clippy thing does not fail
– Escort me to events, holding my hand when I see an ex-boyfriend
– Help me turn my fireplace on. This baby is ready to go, but I am afraid to press the button


Looking for someone 18-22 years old. The intern must be male (or female if we can figure out how to make sure our menstrual cycles do not sync up — that would be a total disaster). Fluency in English, Spanish and French preferred (so he can understand me when I am cursing). And candidates that like to pick up dry cleaning win extra bonus points.


The intern must be willing to live with me for two months (he will get his own bedroom and bathroom, of course). I will pay for lunches (since we will be working together). And I will give him money for beer, food or whatever interns need.

What is the educational aspect of this internship you ask? Well – duh! He gets to learn all about me!

QUESTION: Is today’s college student the working slave of tomorrow?


Yesterday, a man that I’ve never dated dumped me.

He informed me that since I had not been paying enough attention to his advances that he was “bumping” me from his address book’s “A-list” to its lowly “B-list.”

Then, he proceeded to inform me that had I responded to his latest emails, texts and phone calls, he would have flown me to New Orleans (on his company’s jet) for some Mardi Gras Ball that is supposedly something special (at least to people on his Sanyo A-list).

Oh — but it gets freakier …

After that, he told me that he found someone to take my place at the masquerade. A blonde model. Ha! What’s up with that? I was thinking: “Geesh! Take a hint, buddy. And please – give me a parachute and let me jump to C-level!”

But I didn’t say that because he got all sobby and said, “what we had just wasn’t working out for me.” Uhh … what did we have? Other than my full inbox and his pleas for dates?

I ended up giving him the “friend speech.”

QUESTION: Is it possible to get dumped by someone you’ve never pumped?